The Waiting Room

“Every day, I try to see through the patient lens, and I ask: what can we do to change this broken system? To deliver healthcare in a way that treats people with the dignity they deserve? Will I do better tomorrow?”

This oncology clinician is passionate about patients being able to get the care they need. But every day he observes how social determinants of health, like access to housing, transportation or childcare, prevent this from being possible. “Is it ethical to start chemo for a patient who has no home to return to?” he contemplated. “Who was this system designed for?

As our conversation unfolded, I found myself more and more curious about why he cared so deeply about improving healthcare, so I inquired. “I’m Lebanese,” he began. “I grew up in Beirut during the civil war. People died in the streets every day and human life didn’t matter to those doing the killing. This is why I chose to go into the medical field.”

His openness brought me to tears. “When I reflect on what I see in healthcare today, I find myself wondering: how much better are we, really?” he said. “But everyone can do something small within the sphere of their control. Back home, my focus was education. Today, my focus is on each human being in front of me and remembering that we all have a story.”

Listener Poet Jenny Hegland

IHI Forum

December 2023

Back home in Lebanon, the war was at its worst

in grades five, six, and seven

We slept inside the cold, cinder block stairwells

of a nearby building

Ten of us would fight for the spot

closest the candlelight

to finish our homework in the flickers

Staying focused kept us calm

‘cuz our teacher didn’t give a damn

why the math paper couldn’t get done

Before we’d leave for class each morning

mom would hug us in the kitchen, one-by-one

look you straight in the eyes, saying

what her words never would

(they knew killing a child

would send the strongest message)

Every day when I look in the mirror

I brush back my dark black curls

catch a quick glimpse of the scar

on the right side of my forehead

Many times as the snipers tried, this

was the closest they came

Having gotten good at dodging shots in the streets

hightailing, hill to hill, I’m among the lucky

Unlike too many patients I care for today

Most have to travel a long distance

only one bridge from there to here

four hours, on a good day

One patient, a single mom of three

has breast cancer

Couldn’t drop her kids to school

in time to make her appointment so

they sit with her in the waiting room

“Sorry, ma’am – we don’t allow children

and our policy clearly states

you’ll forfeit your appointment

if more than twenty minutes late”

The look in her eyes

no different from mom’s

those mornings in our Beirut kitchen

as she gazed her silent goodbyes

More Poems & Stories

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This person is a neurologist of Romanian descent, in practice in the U.S. for 19 years, who draws inspiration from writers in his heritage. In his writing and work, he seeks to create a safe harbor for humanness while navigating the labyrinths of medicine to reach the essence of the humanity of his patients – even if all they want is a diagnosis or cure.

I Am Stuck on a Wheel That Keeps Turning

This poemee wanted to share her experience as a surgical resident, offering insight into the traditions that define this unique culture: the relentless pressure to succeed, the deference to those in higher positions, and the often-cold interactions that accompany a field-wide drive for speed and efficiency.

List

This new physician was looking forward to starting her OB/GYN residency. Her original goal in undergraduate school was physician assistant studies. But a series of experiences led her to consider a different path: medical school.

No Words Exist (Why They’re Afraid of Us)

“I was at a birth recently and thought: This is why they are so afraid of us. They can’t control this” She sat on her couch with a mug of coffee. She is a queer, femme, mother of two who has worked in reproductive health for over two decades, first in abortion care and now as a doula for all, including queer and non-binary families, through the pregnancy spectrum. She has personally experienced birth, miscarriage, hysterectomy and surgical menopause.

Where Do the Children Play?

A teenage cancer survivor, this poemee shared how she learned from the younger children she witnessed undergoing the same treatment she was. “You just see a difference in the way a child approaches it,” she said. “They have the moment, they have the pain, they have the shot, and then they just go back to playing. I always took strength from the way little kids would handle it.”

We Shall Know Her Name

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One Human Body

“Sometimes I feel so helpless,” said this resident, reflecting on all of the challenges faced by the young patients and their families whom she served. Over the last several days, she has become increasingly overwhelmed by events in the news and has questioned her ability to make a difference in the world.

Stories with My Father

“It’s hard to watch the decline and sometimes hard to visit but it weighs on me not to,” she said. Her father had always been an elaborate storyteller and an alive, vibrant man with a big voice.

We Matter, Guys

The Good Listening Project was honored to once again take part in the annual KNN conference in Minneapolis this year. Jenny closed the session by writing this harvest poem that captured the voices and sentiments shared.

In The Middle Way

After a history of crippling endometriosis, this woman had an arduous, ongoing struggle with her healthcare community for the right to have a hysterectomy. She was finally granted approval at the age of 29. “It had been like pulling teeth, but finally I felt free,” she told me.

'O ka mele

Her childhood was infused with Hawaiian-Polynesian music and dance, taught to her father by his mother. Today, her life’s work is to connect the unbelievable discoveries of molecularly focused pre-clinical research directly to the patient experience of treatment.

On the darkest days

She is a single mother born to a single mother and had to grow up fast. She is juggling a sticky work situation, her own anxiety and depression, and being away from home and her kids.

This Healing Place

Instead of the usual Listener Poet format – listening to one person’s story and responding with a framing narrative and custom poem – I was invited to create a group poem for forty participants at the Arts in Healing luncheon, hosted by the Inova Health Foundation in partnership with the board.

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The Beacon

“I’ve experienced a lot of big losses,” she said. “I want to be a beacon of hope and light, keeping the flame lit for cancer prevention.”

Hidden Figures

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Mirror Talk

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Relationships Are Hard (Especially with Doctors)

“I can’t see a future outside of our relationship,” she tells me, “but I also can’t see a future outside of residency.”

Rooted

“I always believe, no matter what the doctor says, that I will be cured,” she says as her sister sits next to her.

Everyday

“I was at a crossroads about what to do with the rest of my life.”

Prayer for Peace

For many years, this patient has avoided confrontation in pursuit of peace.

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The Mind is a Rabbit Making Warrens of its Grief

“I wonder if these medical professionals, in caring for people who face such insurmountable odds, walk around all the time carrying this weight I’m hauling now.”

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Just Maybe

His empathy only reminded him that he could not help those in pain.

Kunal’s Kavita

He had been trying to cope with the grief ever since and was on a quest for soul-searching and meaning-making.

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Tinder

She spoke about the ways this traumatic event shaped who she is today: a person with an “unshakeable peace” born of deep faith,

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Caterpillar? No, Butterfly

"I don’t know what I’m doing,” but this time, she admonished the negative self-talk.

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Crab Shell

She wanted to help people feel comfortable and transform the shame around colon issues. "I want to talk about things that matter, the things people don't want to discuss.